


Mystery Machine

by dsa_archivist, EA Karras (Anne)



Category: due South
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Series: Mountie Slayer Arc 2, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-10-30
Updated: 2000-10-30
Packaged: 2018-11-10 19:31:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11133252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anne/pseuds/EA%20Karras
Summary: Three years after "Day After". A case. Adolph returns. Bad things happen.This story is a sequel to "The Day After".





	Mystery Machine

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).
    
    
    Title: Mystery Machine
    Authors: EA Karras and Magnes
    Disclaimers: Due South belongs to Alliance/Atlantis, Scooby and his Gang
    belong to Hanna Barbera. Tom belongs to Karra, Cal belongs to Magnes.
    The rest of the OCs belong to the both of us. Blah. 
    
    ---
    
    Ray Kowalski paused long enough to press a kiss to the dark hair of his
    Mountie lover still asleep beneath the sheets. Fraser was exhausted by
    his schedule lately, working full time at the consulate and helping Ray
    when he was yanked off uniformed duty and allowed to play detective for
    a while. He smiled at the sight of a tousled Constable Fraser and whispered,
    "Love ya, Benton," before he retrieved his hat from the dresser and closed
    the door softly behind him. 
    
    It was six in the morning and true to his ungodly werewolf schedule,
    Diefenbaker was waiting for breakfast. As he fed his son the wolf boy,
    Aja came wandering and yawning out of his bedroom, likewise looking to
    be fed. 
    
    "Hey, what're ya doing up, Aja?" he asked of the young demon.
    
    The six-year old yawned and stretched. "It's too hot to sleep."
    
    "Yeah, work's going to be not-fun today." As he spoke he poured himself
    some coffee with the requisite number of Smarties dumped in the cup.
    "I dunno what the heck Welsh is thinking, puttin /me/ on traffic. I suck
    at traffic. I get hives from this uniform." 
    
    "It looks good on you, Raymond. Do you have your whistle?"
    
    "Aw, geez, knew something was missing."
    
    ***
    
    He was into work at seven and standing unenthusiastically in roll call.
    Traffic. He'd been kicked off of traffic. Literally. The sergeant had
    requested he not come back and that's how he ended up back on patrol
    right before the Beth Botrell case. Two accidents in a day were more
    than poor Sergeant D'Agostini could take. 
    
    But so grossly understaffed were they that the detectives were working
    in with what was left of the other departments as they awaited the first
    wave of rookies from the makeshift police academy set up in what had
    once been the 11th. 
    
    Anyone with a scrap of ability had taught classes there, including Fraser
    and Vecchio and himself, and until they could stick some poor schmuck
    rookie on it, Ray Kowalski was in his old uniform and hat and he was
    that poor schmuck for the day. 
    
    Sgt. Freedman, dragged back from his retirement, read off the assignments
    to the assembled officers. They were down to 10% staff, but considering
    the fact that Chicago's population was down to 15% of its norm, they
    didn't do too badly. What had them all amazed was that rather than running
    rampant in the streets like anarchy reigned, people generally behaved
    and seemed to want things to return to normal as quickly as possible.
    
    "Kowalski, Captain wants to see ya in his office. Try not to tie up traffic
    too bad today, okay?" 
    
    "Gotcha, Sarge."
    
    He made his way through the refinished 13th, their present headquarters.
    Sad that this one building was large enough for all their needs. At the
    Captain's door he knocked, his attention caught by a shapely redheaded
    girl in purple mini-dress that was part of a group of teens at the front
    desk. They were trying to get their van out of impound and two of them,
    a blond giant of a guy and a nerdy-looking girl with short hair and glasses
    as bad as his own were going on and on how a traffic cop named Vecchio
    had had their van towed yesterday. 
    
    Ray grinned. Kids.
    
    "You coming in or what, Kowalski?" demanded Welsh.
    
    "What's up, Cap'n?"
    
    "Got a rash from that uniform yet?"
    
    "Yeah."
    
    "Try powder. Think you'll be able to stay over four hours?"
    
    Ray considered. He was exhausted, he wouldn't get paid for the extra
    time, and Fraser would be home tonight. Not much choice here. 
    
    "Sure. What's up?"
    
    Welsh looked relieved. "We got a problem over on Bleeker. Seems we got
    someone breeding basilisks for cock fighting. We just need you to stake
    out the street until your relief gets in." 
    
    "Can do. I'll call Fraser later. Maybe he'll join me."
    
    "I'll make sure you have time to go home and change."
    
    "Thanks. Hey, how's Frannie?"
    
    "She should be back Wednesday."
    
    "Good. Nervous?"
    
    "Wouldn't you be?"
    
    Ray grinned at his friend's anxious look. Impending fatherhood was more
    nerve-racking for Harding Welsh than anything that had happened to him
    thus far up to and including Armageddon. 
    
    Another kid - tall, goatee, a haystack of hair, and a frame like a scarecrow
    had joined the fray at the desk. All four teens - the redhead, the blond,
    the nerd, and the nervous scarecrow - were now arguing with the desk
    attendant. As he walked by, Ray noticed their dog, a big brown Great
    Dane, lying on the floor, watching them with bored eyes. He glanced at
    Ray and the two of them exchanged a sympathetic look. It was going to
    be a long day for both of them. 
    
    ***
    
    Tom dragged the third fan into the living room, hooking it up quickly.
    The summers since Armageddon had become almost excruciatingly hot and
    the air conditioning in the apartment was down for the third time this
    week. He sighed, sitting next to Nikko on the couch. 
    
    Calhoun came out of their bedroom, tilting his head at the pair on the
    couch. To his chagrin, Nikko had somehow inherited Tom's fashion sense.
    Or what Tom thought was fashion sense. Tom had reported that on their
    visits to Wyrmville, that Joe D seemed to favor her choice in clothes.
    Calhoun decided it was high time he threatened the DJ, if only he could
    figure out how to threaten a ghost. If there were a way, he'd find it
    because no daughter of his was hooking up with techno-punk former rock
    star that was now dead. 
    
    Tom was wearing leather pants and the most horrifying green shirt James
    Calhoun had ever seen in his life and undeath. Nikko's dress was short
    and white with Rorschach prints all over it. Both were lounging on the
    couch, looking incredibly overheated and uncomfortable. 
    
    "James." Tom's voice was flat. Damn. He was still mad.
    
    "What?"
    
    "I need you car tomorrow." Today he wasn't even going to try going outside.
    He wasn't exactly sure yet why he needed the car, it was just a feeling
    he had. 
    
    Calhoun looked at him suspiciously. "Why?"
    
    "There's something I have to take care of."
    
    "What's up?" wondered Calhoun innocently.
    
    "I just need the car. Got a problem with that, James?" Tom glared at
    the Sabbat elder whom he was convinced had had his Gremlin blown up.
    
    Sighing, he shook his head. "No. Go ahead. Do what you want."
    
    The grin on Tom's face was absolutely frightening.
    
    James whirled on him. "And for the last time, I had NOTHING to do with
    the untimely death of the green abomination, damnit!" He hadn't. He truly
    hadn't. And Tom refused to believe him. 
    
    Tom glared. "Right."
    
    "I give up."
    
    ***
    
    "Chickens. We're trying to catch a man with chickens."
    
    "Basilisks, Ray. Though they do have the appearance of chickens with
    snake tails." 
    
    "Snakes, chickens, who cares?"
    
    "Illegal breeding of demonic animals and illegal gambling, Ray."
    
    "Ten more minutes, then Peters will get here. Then I want to sleep."
    
    "How was traffic today?"
    
    Ray snorted. "Awful. I suck at traffic. Thank god it's only for a week
    at a shot." 
    
    "Indeed. I don't think the drivers could take much more."
    
    "Hardy-har-har, funny guy inna big hat."
    
    ***
    
    Tom woke up beside James, his heart pounding hard. Something was wrong
    with one of his children. Not Adam. Not Sophia. Not Nikko. 
    
    Cassie?
    
    No.
    
    He closed his eyes, trying to get a handle on the situation.
    
    Adolph?
    
    James stirred, disturbed by the sudden increase of his lover's heart
    rate. Unwilling to disturb the vampire, knowing he would be concerned
    in the extreme, Tom gently smoothed his black hair with gentle fingers.
    
    "Go back to sleep, James. It's nothing. Sleep."
    
    ***
    
    The next morning was rainy and dim, thrilling Ray Kowalski even less
    because now he had to wear his rain gear. Talk about torture. Who needed
    traffic cops anyway? He was pulled off traffic around noon and Fraser
    met him at his desk. 
    
    No stakeouts tonight. Just a calm, quiet evening spent with Fraser. And
    Dief. And Guess. And the Calhoun/Grissom crowd. Okay, maybe not so calm
    and quiet. 
    
    There came the sound of a car pulling out from the light in front of
    the precinct and Ray looked out the window to see Cal's Jaguar go speeding
    by. He glanced at Fraser. "Dead Man must be in a hurry." 
    
    "That was Tom."
    
    "What?"
    
    "That was Tom. Jamey always uses directionals and would have his headlights
    on in the rain." 
    
    Ray raised an eyebrow. "Must have a meeting or something."
    
    Fraser shrugged. "Probably."
    
    "He say anything to you?"
    
    "No."
    
    "Go after him, then."
    
    Fraser popped open the door, looking up at the sky as the rain started
    to fall anew. "Oh dear." 
    
    ***
    
    Tom rushed towards the gravesite, his hair and clothes wet with rain.
    He'd woken up that morning, barely able to breath from the panic that
    something was wrong at Adolph's grave. 
    
    He stared down at the grave, shocked beyond belief.  The wet, muddy dirt
    was churning. Like something or someone was trying to dig it's way out.
    
    "Adolph?" he both whispered and thought.
    
    /Daddy.../
    
    "Oh, my god..."
    
    He dug at the muddy earth with his bare hands. Something became visible,
    pale flesh. Bat wings. Clawed hands. 
    
    "Adolph!"
    
    He was alive.
    
    He dug faster, clawing at the earth around his son, breathing heavily.
    His son was alive. How? 
    
    ***
    
    "Oh my god, Frase, it's Wyrm Jr.!" Ray crouched behind a tombstone, pointedly
    ignoring the dead old lady that was trying to get his attention. Fraser
    watched from behind another monument. It was teeming rain, hot and humid
    and muddy. 
    
    "It would appear to be Adolph...he seems to have evolved into something
    larger." 
    
    "Didn't he buy it?"
    
    "Buy what?"
    
    "The farm."
    
    "What farm, Ray?"
    
    "Dead, Fraser, wasn't he dead?" Ray turned to face the Mountie, rain
    streaking his glasses. 
    
    "I believe so, Ray. However, in this day and age, death means very little
    anymore." 
    
    "Calhoun is going to flip out completely."
    
    "You're absolutely right."
    
    Ray froze when the Wyrm child suddenly hefted himself into the air above
    Tom, and hovered. Adolph stared right at them for the barest minute.
    He shivered. He knew they were there. Shit. 
    
    ***
    
    Tom stared up at his son, rain falling into his face. The Moloch in him
    was screaming, hating getting wet. Hating anything to do with the water.
    "Adolph...." 
    
    "We have to go."
    
    "Yes."
    
    "We have to go /now/, daddy. Somewhere safe."
    
    Tom nodded. He couldn't take Adolph home. James would kill him. Both
    of them. Not to mention Ray, Fraser.... 
    
    Half the world.
    
    He made a split second decision. "All right. Come on." He led Adolph
    to the Jag, grabbing a blanket from the trunk, and wrapping it around
    the wyrm child. "Get in. I know where to go." 
    
    ***
    
    "Where the hell's he taking him?"
    
    "I hardly think I know, Ray."
    
    "Follow?"
    
    "Sound idea."
    
    ***
    
    They followed him to Hell.
    
    Primal Demons now claimed the old prison. Permission had been granted
    by the governor for them to rebuild it and use it as a shelter. They
    had done a good job of restoring the building and regular inspections
    kept things from getting too hinky, but all in all it was not Ray's -
    or Fraser's - favorite place to visit. Tom, being Primal Higher, was
    some kind of honorary leader to the demons and he had a lot of sway over
    them. The demons hadn't been too thrilled with Tom teaching Demon Recognition
    and Basic Slaying at the academy until it was pointed out to them that
    they were much safer with a well-informed police force. It had taken
    some talking, but the demons finally bought it and overall, like their
    human counterparts, the demons had behaved very well, as eager as the
    rest of the population to restore what once had been. 
    
    The GTO came to a stop at the crest of the hill outside the prison. The
    two men watched the black sports car disappear behind the walls and Ray
    sighed. 
    
    "This is not good. Is he undead now?"
    
    "Worse yet, is he an agent of his pater?" wondered the Mountie. "Should
    we tell Jamey?" 
    
    "He'll smell him in that car. He's going to lose it. Bad enough Wyrmy
    boy is back, but he's riding around on Cal's leather interior." 
    
    "Perhaps explanations are best left to Tom."
    
    "He'd better tell him. Tom's forgotten to tell Dead Man Walking /way/
    too many things. Big things." 
    
    Fraser watched the prison, an odd expression on his face.
    
    "Frase? You okay?"
    
    "Yes, Ray. I just hope this doesn't tear us all apart."
    
    Ray leaned his hands, then his chin on the steering wheel.
    
    "I hope Grissom isn't that d-u-m, dumb." He looked over at the Mountie,
    knowing no power on the earth or below it could part him from this man.
    Fraser caught his glance, taking in the police uniform, the glasses,
    the hat-flattened hair, and by his look Ray Kowalski Benton Fraser had
    just fallen head over heels all over again. 
    
    Okay, so maybe Traffic Division did have its uses.
    
    ***
    
    Tom led the Wyrm Childe through the corridors of Hell, the blanket still
    wrapped around the wet, smelly boy. "It's all right..." He looked around.
    "Aria!" he called to the Moloch Girl who had guarded James' frozen body
    three years ago. She had become his unofficial beta. 
    
    He turned to her as she entered the hallway. He could feel her surprise
    and shock at seeing the boy back here, and smiled. It was a weak and
    bitter smile. "Aria, I need you to take care of my son while I'm clearing
    things with James. All right?" 
    
    She nodded. No Moloch would refuse him anything. He was their higher.
    
    ***
    
    Next day,
    
    "What's up, Cap'n?"
    
    Welsh held up the body of what looked like a chicken covered with scales.
    "Kinderman found it on one of the access routes. There were four sets
    of footprints and what looked like a wolf or a werewolf. Go find it,
    find the wolf, find the Basilisk breeders." 
    
    Ray raised his eyebrows, inches away from bolting away from the decaying
    chicken thing. Fraser reached out, "Sir, if I may?" 
    
    Ray nearly gagged as Fraser actually reached out and tasted the thing.
    "Fraser!" 
    
    "Sugar."
    
    "Sugar?"
    
    "It's been fighting in sugar."
    
    "Who fights chickens in sugar?" Ray demanded, looking to Welsh, mentally
    swearing he was not going to kiss Fraser for a week if he could help
    it. 
    
    "Basilisks, Ray." Fraser smiled as he corrected the detective. "Looks
    like you're off traffic today." 
    
    ***
    
    Tom sat in the driveway, trying to think of how to tell James about Adolph's
    resurrection. He inhaled deep and nearly bowled over hacking. "Fuck..."
    He'd forgotten about the smell. Wyrms as a breed smelled bad. Adolph
    was no exception. 
    
    James would smell it.
    
    James would kill him.
    
    ***
    
    Calhoun woke up to an empty bed but not an empty room. It was early in
    the morning and Tom was sitting in the chair by the window, head buried
    in his hands. He was still wearing the clothes he had worn yesterday,
    soaked through with rain. He looked exhausted. 
    
    "Tom? What's wrong?" He sat up, not liking this one bit.
    
    The psychic let out a long-held breath, trying to gauge the vampire's
    mood. A newly wakened Calhoun was not the most reasonable creature on
    the planet. He'd spent three hours trying to scrub and perfume every
    inch of stench from Adolph out of the Jag. Nothing had worked. It wouldn't
    come out. 
    
    James was going to kill him for what he'd had to do.
    
    He sighed again, staring at the floor. He'd never noticed before how
    ugly the carpet was. Suddenly James was at his side. "Tom?" 
    
    "Adolph."
    
    Calhoun froze. "What about him? Did someone mess with his grave?" 
    
    "In a way."
    
    "What way?" He cocked his head, listening. He could hear Sophia was up,
    as was Aja. Nikko would be up soon and Dief had been up for hours. No
    need to worry about feeding them yet. He returned his attention to Tom.
    "What way?" 
    
    Despite the heat of summer, Tom was chilled and Calhoun lead him to their
    bed and wrapped him in a blanket. If he'd been at the demon's grave that
    would explain the smell of Wyrm about him. 
    
    "James?"
    
    "What?"
    
    "Do you love me?"
    
    "Completely." Oh, god, now what?
    
    Tom bit his lip, curling up against the vampire's chest.
    
    "I think I ruined the interior of your car."
    
    He stiffened. The Jag? His beloved Jaguar? He looked down at Tom, praying
    this was an awful joke. 
    
    No joke. The expression on Tom's face said it all. Calhoun stared, stricken.
    Tom looked positively frightened. 
    
    "I'm sorry," Tom whispered.
    
    "I really didn't blow up the Gremlin," he answered miserably.
    
    ***
    
    "Okay. Basket licks."
    
    "Basilisks."
    
    Ray shook his head, glad to be out of uniform and back in jeans. He sipped
    his coffee and rocked back in his chair. Tellarico, the 13th's resident
    ghost, was delighted to see him back and immediately had taken over his
    extra chair, the chair Fraser used. Kowalski promptly laid down the law
    and ordered the old ghost to haunt Vecchio's desk. There was no sign
    of Carrie or Ivan. Ray hoped they had moved on. He knew the Fifteen had,
    thankfully. 
    
    /Son. Yank./
    
    "Dad!"
    
    "Hi, Canada. How's Canada? Joe ready to propose to Nikko yet?"
    
    /All he has to do is work up enough sand to face her father./
    
    "So he's, like, buying the Sahara Desert, huh?"
    
    /Basically./
    
    "Hey, Canada, they fight chicken snakes up in Canada?  Hey! Tellarico!
    Scram! My guest spook! Did I not tell ya ta bother Vecchio's desk?" 
    
    "Basilisks, Dad."
    
    /Of course. Buck and I once broke up a ring of basilisk breeders. Gorgeous
    creatures. They'll bite your fingers clean off./ 
    
    "That the Northwest Areas definition of gorgeous?"
    
    "Yes. Dad, the basilisk tasted sweet. They're fighting in sugar." 
    
    "Y'know, Fraser, one of these days we're going to find something ya /won't/
    lick." 
    
    /I'd like to see that./
    
    "I wouldn't."
    
    "The sugar, Dad?"
    
    /Whips 'em into a frenzy. Just like blood to a vampire. They go crazy.
    There's something about it that drives them insane./ 
    
    "Like chocolate and caffeine does to me?"
    
    Both Frasers replied. "Yes."
    
    ***
    
    Calhoun came back into the bedroom from inspecting the car. It would
    take a lot of cleaning, but he could probably get the smell out. The
    look of fear on Tom's face, though. There was obviously more to this
    than the smell of potpourri in his car. 
    
    "Tom? What's wrong?"
    
    He didn't expect his ears assaulted by a rambling list of everything
    that could possibly be wrong with Tom. He could barely understand the
    psychic. All he got was something about thinking he might be pregnant
    and Adolph amidst that whole laundry list of woes. 
    
    Adolph?
    
    "What about Adolph?" He knelt down, frowning.
    
    "He's alive." Tom's voice sounded dead, but Calhoun could feel the fear
    behind it. The stark raving terror. Tom had no idea what to do. 
    
    "Alive."
    
    "Yes."
    
    Calhoun closed his eyes, emotions churning inside him. "Did you know?"
    
    "What-"
    
    "Did. You. Know?"
    
    ***
    
    Ray looked up, staring at the sunlit sky. He couldn't get over how beautiful
    it was. So different from the Wyrm-infested skies of three years ago.
    No terrarium.  Just a hurt world healing itself. 
    
    He caught Fraser smiling at him and grinned back. "All right, Benton-buddy.
    Where to?" 
    
    "The access routes, I should think."
    
    "Check out the scene of the crime."
    
    "Quite."
    
    ***
    
    Mr. Buxley had been a farmer back before the time of Wyrm. He'd bred
    basilisks for a major food company. But he'd fallen on hard times since
    Armageddon and had been forced to sell almost all of his stock and borrow
    heavily as he rebuilt his business. 
    
    The basilisk on Welsh's desk was his.
    
    ***
    
    "Tire treads, Fraser. Recognize 'em?"
    
    "Goodyear. I'd have to have a photo to get the exact model, Ray." 
    
    "See anything yet?"
    
    "Several sets of footprints...boots...two women...shoes...and a dog."
    
    "That's a helluva big dog, Fraser! Sure it's not a werewolf?"
    
    "No, but generally speaking, werewolves shun human company and they don't
    like motor vehicles. This one got out with the other four people." He
    paused. "Maybe a Great Dane, or a Newfoundlander." 
    
    "Anything beyond these four people and their dog?"
    
    Fraser sighed, wiping off his hands as he rose from the muddy ground.
    "No. They've trampled any potential clues." 
    
    "Damn."
    
    "Hmm. I suggest we try to ascertain if any breeders of basilisks are
    back in business. They were in high demand in the restaurant market prior
    to..." 
    
    "The terrarium."
    
    "Yes."
    
    "'Kay.  Let's do."
    
    ***
    
    "I didn't know...I'm sorry..." Tom buried his face in his hands again,
    his shoulders shaking. Quaking. 
    
    Calhoun sighed, pulling Tom into a loose embrace. He was incapable of
    being mad or upset when Tom was in this kind of shape. Clearly he was
    torturing himself enough for both of them. "It's all right...Don't...don't
    cry, ok?" He froze, remembering the other thing Tom had mentioned. "Pregnant.
    You think you're pregnant." 
    
    Tom nodded, miserable.
    
    "How? We've gone psychic for three years, Tom. Because you wanted to
    wait. So, how?" Calhoun looked into Tom's eyes, shivering. Tom hadn't
    cheated on him. He would have known. Maybe Tom was wrong. 
    
    "I'm not sure..." Tom sniffed. "If I even am."
    
    "Find out. I'll go with you." He pulled Tom close, rocking him gently.
    "Call the doctor today." 
    
    "I...I will, but...I told Adolph I would spend some time with him today."
    
    Unable to approve, Calhoun nodded instead. "Alright. But not before you
    see a doctor. And nothing before you take a shower and get some sleep.
    I'll take care of the kids." 
    
    Tom nodded, never more glad for this man and his unflagging devotion.
    "I love you, James." 
    
    He smiled, a little distracted as he thought about his unfortunate leather
    interior. 
    
    "Guess what?" he said, immediately regretting it as the devil dog responded
    to its name and started barking. 
    
    "What?"
    
    "I love you too."
    
    ***
    
    Fraser stood outside the farmer's pen, staring in at the basilisks and
    the pigliots. "You're sure none are missing?" he heard Ray ask. The farmer's
    reply was in the negative, but he wasn't sure. He could /smell/ sugar
    on them. 
    
    Perhaps....
    
    He looked up. "Have you been fighting these creatures, Mr. Buxley?" 
    
    "Personally?" asked the breeder. He was short and dumpy with dark hair
    and a moustache. "No." 
    
    Ray sighed impatiently. "Not you /and/ the animals, pal. Cock fighting!"
    
    Buxley cast the red-haired detective a look. "I wouldn't allow anyone
    to do that to my animals. I've been breeding them for thirty years. See
    this?" He waved at the twenty or thirty basilisks of various ages in
    their pens. "I had nothing but two pairs and three pigliots after Armageddon.
    Now I'm back on track to rebuilding a reputation." 
    
    "Has anyone approached you in regards to cock fighting? Or cockatrice
    fighting is the more correct form," amended Fraser. 
    
    "Had a guy want to buy a pair last week. He said he was in the restaurant
    business, but I only deal directly with certain places. It's a pretty
    complex system, but basically they get delivered live and they get butchered
    on the spot. The bodies have to be cooked immediately or they'll rot
    and I have to collect all the tail feathers to make sure none of them
    were sold live to the fighters." 
    
    "Do you have a partner?" Ray asked abruptly.
    
    "You're as bad as those kids. No, just people trying to collect loans."
    
    Fraser noticed the tracks around the pens. "How do you keep them all
    secure?" 
    
    Buxley smirked and pointed to a kennel. "Two hell hounds and six devil
    dogs." 
    
    "Impressive. I commend your efforts, Mr. Buxley. Do you remember the
    name of the man that wanted to buy your basilisks?" 
    
    "I got it inside. Come on."
    
    ***
    
    Tom sat in the passenger side of the Jag as Calhoun drove them towards
    the medical center. They hadn't said a word to each other after they
    left the apartment. Tom felt James' hand snake across the seats between
    him and squeeze his hand. 
    
    He smiled tiredly. "I'm sorry."
    
    "I know," Calhoun flipped on the radio, only to hear yet another song
    dedicated to his daughter. He turned it right back off. 
    
    ***
    
    Aja sat in the consulate with Turnbull, flipping the old tarot cards.
    Over the years the cards had changed, reflecting current events. Turnbull
    had thought they should see if anything big were coming up. Bad things
    seemed to come in threes. 
    
    He flipped another card down, and blinked with surprise.
    
    The Sacrifice. The Devil. The Soldier.
    
    "What on Earth?"
    
    ***
    
    Tom lay on the examination table, hating every minute of the exam. He
    stared at the ceiling, eyes widened as the coldness of the metal touched
    his stomach. "Anything?" 
    
    "Nothing yet..." The doctor shook his head.
    
    Calhoun sighed, running his hand through his hair. "I told you. How could
    you be, we've only gone psychic..." 
    
    The doctor shook his head. "His tests came back positive. It's possible
    the pregnancy's ectopic, or..." He moved the sensor to the right. The
    sound of two heartbeats filled the tiny room. 
    
    Calhoun looked as lost and confused as Tom.
    
    "You're what, Mr. Grissom? Half Moloch?"
    
    "Yeah."
    
    "You've had other children. What is your normal gestation?"
    
    Tom worded his answer with care. "Uh, well, I kinda had a resurrection
    spell put on me by mistake a few years ago with my second child. Since
    then, /normal/ gestation has been about three years." 
    
    The doctor nodded. "Three years. That sounds about right."
    
    "What?" breathed Calhoun.
    
    The doctor smiled, pleased at the notion of a baby. "I'd say you're due...now."
    
    Tom's head fell back onto the metal table with a resounding thud. Calhoun
    dropped into a chair. They looked at each other, beyond speech, beyond
    confusion. 
    
    The doctor continued his examination, feeling the sacs as gently as possible.
    "That's odd." 
    
    "What is?" Calhoun's voice was full of confusion.
    
    "The baby's to the right, as if to make room for a twin. When was your
    last child born?" 
    
    "Nikko. Three years ago. After a gestation of about 4 months."
    
    "Oh. Dear." The doctor looked up. "Well, you're quite possibly still
    carrying your daughter's twin." 
    
    Calhoun's head hit the examination table with a thud.
    
    ***
    
    "Someone, perhaps not Mr. Buxley, was using some of those mature basilisks
    to fight, Ray." 
    
    "Do tell," said Ray, starting the car. He looked up as the rain started
    falling again. 
    
    "Ah, well, they smelled like sugar."
    
    Ray made a face. "I couldn't smell anything but fertilizer. And what
    was he saying about kids?" 
    
    "I don't know, but if it's the same individuals, they only came there
    today." Fraser tossed the Stetson onto the dashboard, wiping his sweaty
    brow. Rain or no rain, the weather was still intolerable. 
    
    "Well, if someone is taking the basilisks, they're winning."
    
    "And they're close enough to Mr. Buxley to know the hell hounds and the
    devil dogs." 
    
    Ray sighed. He needed a drink and he was certain Fraser was melting beneath
    that Mountie facade. 
    
    "Let's have Frannie run him. Maybe he's got friends he doesn't know about."
    
    ***
    
    Cassie entered Hell looking for her father.
    
    She found Adolph.
    
    ***
    
    Tom lay in the back seat of the Jag, eyes closed and listening to the
    sounds of the rain hitting the metal roof. They weren't driving, James
    wasn't sure he could handle that yet. 
    
    Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, Calhoun listened to the sound
    of Tom's breathing. Tom was afraid. Still afraid. What of? Him? Adolph?
    The baby? 
    
    "Tom-"
    
    "I'm sorry," Tom suddenly blurted out. "I'm sorry, James. I never would've
    done some of the things I've done if I'd known..." 
    
    That perplexed the vampire. Did he mean Adolph? Teaching classes at the
    Academy? "What've you done?" he asked quietly. 
    
    "Killing Xander. Fighting Ray...I..." He sighed, not opening his eyes.
    "Anya. The day after I unfroze you, we held a tribunal." 
    
    "We?"
    
    "The Primals. She was a demon, James. She killed a Slayer. I contacted..."
    
    "What? What did you do, Tom?" This didn't sound good at all.
    
    "I contacted the Watchers. We held a tribunal."
    
    Calhoun froze. There was no love lost over Anya being out of the picture,
    but if Tom was going to be this upset about anything, the Sabbat knew
    to pay attention.  It was like Fraser raising his voice or Turnbull getting
    mad: When it happened, you listened. "What did you do, Tom?" 
    
    ***
    
    Francesca Welsh, seven months pregnant and cute as a button even when
    she was grumpy, had run Lyndon Buxley through the computer system and
    had come up with little beyond a few parking tickets. Known associates
    named a brother and one-time partner of less noble lineage - Harrison
    Buxley was a known racketeer and bookmaker and had been arrested and
    imprisoned in Purgatory twice for cock fighting. Unfortunately, according
    to the records, he was also dead. 
    
    Cause of death was listed as Armageddon.
    
    Ray leaned over Frannie's shoulder, handing her a bottle of water that
    they'd picked up on the way over. 
    
    "Thanks. Fraser, aren't you dying?"
    
    "That's me, Frannie. How long were they partners? Up to Armageddon?"
    
    "Uh...doesn't say."
    
    "Run the brother. See if he's got any connections."
    
    "So what's all this hen fighting?"
    
    "Cock fighting," Ray corrected automatically.
    
    "Cock, hen, they're all chickens."
    
    Fraser answered. "Actually, Francesca, they're basilisks and extremely
    dangerous. We believe someone is borrowing Mr. Buxley's basilisks and
    using them to fight." 
    
    "You don't think it's him? You know, a little money on the fly."
    
    "Sly. Money on the sly. You didn't see the way this guy was worshipping
    those snaky things, Frannie. I think he'd sooner go in the ring himself,"
    said Ray. He dug in his pocket and found the piece of paper he'd shoved
    in there before. 
    
    "What about that dead one?"
    
    "What indeed," wondered Fraser quietly.
    
    "One last name, Frannie. Run this guy. Call me when yer done, okay?"
    
    ***
    
    "We held a tribunal. She...confessed pretty much up front. We..." 
    
    "Yes?"
    
    He did not expect Tom to start crying. For God's sake, what had he done
    that was so bad? Did they eat her? 
    
    "Yes," Tom sniffed.
    
    Calhoun blinked.
    
    Twice.
    
    Three times.
    
    "Excuse me?" Calhoun turned towards the back seat. "You what?"
    
    "We ate her?"
    
    Dead silence. Calhoun started laughing. "Yeah, right..."
    
    ***
    
    Fraser peered out the window as Ray drove by the medical center on his
    way back to Buxley's farm. "Hmm." 
    
    "What?"
    
    "Oh, nothing. I thought I saw Jamey's car."
    
    "Oh." Ray nodded, pressing the gas a bit more. He snickered when he saw
    Vecchio was on traffic. Poor bastard. In this rain... 
    
    Better him than me, he thought.
    
    ***
    
    Vecchio resisted the urge for an obscene gesture as he recognized the
    car driving past him. Traffic. /He/ was on traffic. What a step backwards...
    
    He saw green and lilac van pull into the intersection. It was too ugly
    to be forgotten and even more 70's than the Riv. He grinned. Why, only
    yesterday he'd had that thing towed and had gotten four indignant teenagers
    and a goofy dog on his case. 
    
    Even though there was no traffic coming, he made them stop. Let 'em stew.
    
    ***
    
    Three basilisks were missing when they arrived. Buxley was standing by
    the barn, yelling at his devil dogs and hell hounds. They were shirking,
    looking ashamed. If a dog ever could. 
    
    "Useless! Absolutely useless! Someone waltzed in here, grabbed three
    males, and waltzed out! And these useless dogs didn't so much as yip!"
    
    "That was the curious incident," quoth Fraser softly. "Mr. Buxley, how
    long were you and your brother partners?" 
    
    The distraught farmer thought for a moment. "About three years. Then
    he got arrested for book keeping." 
    
    "How long have you had these dogs?"
    
    "Five years."
    
    Fraser nodded. Interesting. He looked at Ray and knew the detective understood.
    
    ***
    
    Tom glared at Calhoun, sitting up. "What's so funny?"
    
    "You. You /ate/ her? Right!"
    
    Tom was astounded. This was /not/ the reaction he'd expected. "I did."
    
    "Sure."
    
    Tom glared at his lover. "I have it on tape. The Council makes us tape
    all tribunals." 
    
    ***
    
    Adolph stared at his sister, surprised to see /her/ in Hell. He'd thought
    it a prison. Obviously he'd been wrong. He'd never met her before, but
    somehow he /knew/ she was his blood. 
    
    And he hated her.
    
    He hated them all. Adam. Sophia. Cassandra. He even hated Nikko where
    once he had almost felt affection for her. Or what might have grown into
    affection. 
    
    They stood between Adolph and the only being in the universe that loved
    him. 
    
    God, how he hated them!
    
    And Him, the Sabbat, the vampire that had fathered his appointed killer
    - Adolph hated James Calhoun above all others. 
    
    And the child his father even now carried. He suspected he didn't know.
    Good. 
    
    That would make what he had to do easier.
    
    When his daddy came back, he'd do it. He'd make it quick. As painless
    as possible. 
    
    Maybe.
    
    ***
    
    Cassie stared, speechless. This was Adolph. Her brother. God, and she
    disliked Adam? He was ideal compared to this...monster. Her father loved
    this demon? 
    
    She had to get out of here. She had been looking for her father and found
    a nightmare. As she ran down the hall she heard laughter. Adolph was
    laughing at her. 
    
    It chilled her to the bone.
    
    ***
    
    Frannie had found the brother's address quickly. Ray had been fairly
    surprised when they'd gotten to the man's apartment to find him scowling
    over a pile of Base Lick or whatever feathers. 
    
    He was even more surprised to find Harrison Buxley had been trussed up,
    all ready for them. 
    
    Fraser seemed a little less phased. Maybe people popped up like this
    at random in the Northwest Areas. Either way, he was spilling the whole
    story to them even before they finished searching the apartment for any
    accomplices. All they found were a few strands of long red hair and an
    empty box of dog treats. 
    
    "You have the right to remain silent," Ray attempted. "Anything you say
    can and will be used against you in a court of law." 
    
    "It was those kids! Those meddling kids! They kept hounding me! Something
    about a Chinese restaurant that bought from my brother! I stole one of
    his birds and bribed the chef to hand over old tail feathers I collected
    when I was my brother's partner!" 
    
    "You have the right to an attorney."
    
    "I needed more! My brother's birds are the best! Then Serpantor lost
    - my god, the best Basilisk in the state - he lost!" 
    
    "If you can't afford one, one will be appointed for you."
    
    "I snuck onto the farm! I stole the three best ones he had! My god, he's
    just going to sell them to restaurants!" 
    
    "Hello! Buxley! I'm tryin' ta Mirandize ya here! Kindly pay attention!"
    
    ***
    
    Calhoun begrudgingly followed Tom into Hell, heading towards the video
    bay. He really did not want to see this tape, if it even existed. He
    sighed and stopping in his path. "Ok, Tom. I believe you, ok?" 
    
    "You don't, but fine." He turned to James quietly. "I'm gonna go talk
    to Adolph, ok? I'll be back." 
    
    "Fine." Calhoun looked around. "I'll go play with your Molochs."
    
    "I'd rather you didn't," Tom grinned, heading off down the stares. 
    
    ***
    
    Aja flipped down a third card. "Something's going to happen, Seeker."
    
    "When?"
    
    He flipped down a fourth, gasping. He closed his eyes, trembling. "Now."
    
    ***
    
    He found Adolph in a training room, hovering in wait. "Daddy," the Wyrm
    Child hissed, scratching claws together. He was smiling. 
    
    "Adolph? What're you doing?"
    
    "Daddy, I need you." Adolph held one hand out. Slowly Tom took it. As
    his son drew him closer he barely saw the other claw before it was too
    late. 
    
    ***
    
    Calhoun felt /wrong/. Something was wrong. He turned towards the direction
    Tom had gone and felt coldness. 
    
    Suddenly there was a scream of pain in is mind, a feeling of pain in
    his gut. Panic that was not his own. 
    
    /JAMES!/
    
    "TOM!" screamed James, launching himself towards the stairs. He heard
    and felt the next scream, smelled the blood. Adolph was trying to kill
    Tom. 
    
    He burst into the cell. Carnage. Blood. His lover, bleeding on the floor.
    The demon he once had crippled, waiting in ambush for him. 
    
    His unborn daughter...dying.
    
    Desperation and fury took him. A wild, uncontrollable emotion ripped
    through him and without knowing how or being able to stop it, the despair
    exploded in his mind in one overwhelming burst. 
    
    /TOM!!!/
    
    It blinded him, took him, he fought without thought or knowledge of his
    own actions. 
    
    Adolph would rue this day.
    
    ***
    
    Huey and Dewey were loading the still-babbling Buxley into a patrol car
    when Calhoun's scream hit. Fraser staggered, holding his head, but Kowalski
    let out a long, agonized scream. He sounded as if he'd just lost everything
    he loved. 
    
    "TTTTTTOOOOOOMMMMMMM!!!"
    
    He collapsed, gasping, then struggled to his feet. "Fraser! Fraser! We
    have to get to Hell! Oh, god, Tom!" 
    
    ***
    
    If he tried, he could not hate traffic more.
    
    Ray Vecchio was waiting for the last few pedestrian stragglers to get
    their butts across the road when suddenly he was in pain. He clutched
    his middle, gasping. 
    
    "James?" he whispered. "Please...James...help...me..."
    
    He passed out.
    
    ***
    
    Von had been asleep when he heard his elder scream. Such a sound he had
    never heard or felt before. 
    
    His elder needed him. Needed them all.
    
    /Move/, he ordered, knowing they had felt it.
    
    ***
    
    Marco was returning Prince Warfield's limousine from the shop when he
    saw the commotion at the intersection. Flipping on his scanner, he tried
    to hear if there was an accident when he abruptly realized a Knight of
    the city was down. And damnit, he recognized that nose. 
    
    ***
    
    "Recruit McGet? Kindly return to your seat."
    
    Jay turned wide eyes on the class instructor. "Sir, excuse me, sir, but...Sir,
    I have to get to Hell now, sir." 
    
    ***
    
    Cecil Noor was playing with his twin boy and girl when the call came.
    Suddenly he /needed/ to see the Sabbat Elder, James Calhoun. More than
    needed him. His life depended on it. 
    
    "Brick! Blendine! Come with daddy now!"
    
    ***
    
    "Doctor Turnbull?"
    
    "I'm needed in Hell right now. Get me a field kit stat!"
    
    ***
    
    Adam screamed in Turnbull's hold, writhing in pain.
    
    "What is it, Lord Caine? What's happening?"
    
    "M-my father! Get me to Hell, Constable! Oh, god, James!"
    
    ***
    
    Dimly aware of a fight going on somewhere in his vicinity, Tom pulled
    himself to his hands and knees, gasping in pain. Clutching his stomach,
    he could feel blood oozing through his clothes. 
    
    He coughed, falling back onto his side. /James.../
    
    He opened his eyes, squinting at the fighting duo. James. Adolph. God,
    they were going to kill each other. They were capable of it. 
    
    He coughed again, head falling back on the cold cement floor. He had
    to get up. He had to stop this. Somehow. He closed his eyes. 
    
    /Aria.../
    
    ***
    
    It was evident almost immediately that Adolph was not used to battling
    anyone at could match his strength or deal a blow as hard as he could.
    Calhoun's first strike hit home, right to the demon's thin neck and a
    howl of indignation and pain ripped through the chamber. Adolph tried
    to take to the air, but the Sabbat seized his arm and slammed him into
    the wall. Then it began... 
    
    Calhoun shoved and punched at Adolph, ducking claws and biting teeth
    and using the same weapons against the demon. The vampire had no idea
    what had brought on the demon's attack on Tom and he didn't give a flying
    fuck. All he cared about was that this little bastard had /hurt/ Tom.
    Tom was maybe dying and it was all Adolph's fault. 
    
    He snarled, giving it all he was worth.
    
    Luckily for himself and his Moloch lover, that was a hell of a lot. 
    
    ***
    
    Fraser went right into Speeding Mountie Mode when they got in the GTO,
    making it from Buxley's apartment to Hell in a scant twelve minutes.
    
    Getting into Hell wasn't the problem it had been in the past. The Primals
    had torn themselves away from guarding the perimeter and now they crowed
    into the halls, their voices raised in alarm as they hurried about. Something
    had happened, or was happening. 
    
    Something bad.
    
    A Moloch girl shoved past Ray on her way up the stairs, holding a mirror
    smasher. "We go thataway, I think." 
    
    "Indeed."
    
    ***
    
    Jay just up and left the academy, hoping they would understand. He was
    barely out the door when Lucia came screeching up in his Impala. Thank
    god it was a rotten day completely devoid of sunshine or they'd never
    be able to do this. 
    
    "Get in!" she ordered.
    
    He dove into the seat. "Get us to Hell!"
    
    "I know! I know! Elder Calhoun is hurt!"
    
    ***
    
    Adolph soon learned that speed, strength, and cunning meant almost nothing
    when fighting Calhoun. The vampire was a soldier by trade and had been
    fighting and killing for almost a century. To his shock, Adolph was the
    one growing tired, not Calhoun. 
    
    There was only one thing left to do.
    
    He attacked his father.
    
    Tom lay in a bloody heap on the floor, helpless and fading. Adolph rained
    one clawed hand - 
    
    Calhoun threw himself between them.
    
    Adolph's claws tore him open from shoulder to hip.
    
    He screamed, his hands seizing anything and twisting.
    
    Another scream rang out as the vampire snapped the bones in Adolph's
    wing, ripping the thin membrane. Adolph swung his spiked tail but James
    just ducked. 
    
    And they fought on.
    
    ***
    
    Cecil hurried his children out of the car. Carrying Blendine and pulling
    Brick along, he entered the old prison. Inside was confusion, but he
    found a Heinic, Rupert, that he was friendly with and cornered him. 
    
    "What's wrong? What's happening? Is Tom here?"
    
    "Adolph and the Higher's consort are fighting over him. Aria says he's
    hurt!" 
    
    Panic gripped the Enthos. "HE? Which he?"
    
    Rupert looked at him helplessly. "All of them!"
    
    He shoved Blendine into his arms and wrestled free of Brick's death-grip
    on his hand. "Watch them!" 
    
    ***
    
    He felt the cold metal of the gun slide against his fingers. Aria wouldn't
    come in the room. No Primal would. They were too afraid of Adolph to
    come near him. 
    
    With agonizing slowness, Tom inched his fingers across the metal of the
    mirror gun, squeezing it lightly. 
    
    He couldn't bring himself to raise it.
    
    ***
    
    Mina was running into the prison just as the rest of the McGets came
    driving up at breakneck speed. Ray was here. Cecil. She knew her one-time
    Elder was hurt. Badly. 
    
    "Don't wait!" shouted Lucia, waving her on. Jay was out of the car before
    it stopped and running up the steps three at a time. Calhoun had made
    him. He was the last childe James had left and he would gladly fight
    to a second death for his sire. 
    
    ***
    
    Diefenbaker could not keep still and Turnbull envied him the back seat
    of the consulate's one remaining car. Inspector Thatcher was going to
    be terribly mad at him, but he would gladly face that wrath if it meant
    his friends were safe. 
    
    "Faster, Seeker!" begged Caine. "Go faster!"
    
    ***
    
    Agony, burning across his front, down his face from where Adolph's claws
    had found their targets. Calhoun had the satisfaction of knowing the
    demon was tired and intimidated and crippled. He was favoring one side,
    keeping his wounded wing away from his reach. 
    
    /So I just fucking break the other one.../
    
    The spiked tail lashed out, knocking him flat, and Adolph leaped. 
    
    The Sabbat rolled out of the way, catching that tail with both hands
    and folding it back upon itself. 
    
    It snapped, bone breaking through the scaly, leathery hide.
    
    Adolph went insane from the pain.
    
    He lashed out, landing a blow to Calhoun's thigh. He staggered and hit
    the floor not far from Tom. His leg was broken but still he rolled to
    his feet, favoring the injured limb. Adolph rushed him, slamming the
    Sabbat into the wall and kicking the broken leg out from beneath him.
    
    Calhoun threw his weight forward, sinking his fangs into the demon's
    shoulder. He didn't even try to feed off of him. Rather, he used the
    half-inch fangs to cut Adolph open to the bone. He spat the blood out,
    knowing it was pure poison. Adolph howled, yanking back and Calhoun hit
    the floor. He hit his mouth on the stone, breaking some of his teeth.
    He twisted onto his back regardless of the pain and Adolph landed on
    his chest like a stone. 
    
    "You're mine now, Sabbat!"
    
    ***
    
    He hadn't ever wanted to return to this place, but...what the Hell. Here
    he was. Von took a quick glance at the cars there. He recognized a few.
    Looked as if the entire Calhoun/Grissom fan club had turned out in force.
    
    God, and now they were arriving in limousines. He watched the sleek black
    car pull up and park badly. A goofy slayer, a kindergartner, and the
    runtiest werewolf on the planet piled out and ran up the steps. 
    
    "They hire a press agent?" he asked as Ted and Joan joined him. He could
    sense the rest of the clan was almost here. "Come on, let's go cheer
    on our side." 
    
    ***
    
    They shoved their way forward to the cell occupied by Adolph. Primal
    demons of all shapes and sizes crowded their path. Ray heard his name
    being called and turned to see Cecil fighting his way to reach them.
    Ray reached back and seized the Enthos' hand, yanking him forward. 
    
    "In here!" shouted Fraser. He spotted Aria, whom they all vaguely knew,
    and grabbed her arm. "Get me a stake! I need a stake!" 
    
    Gaping, she nodded and darted off.
    
    He rushed into the room.
    
    Carnage. Adolph was clawing Calhoun apart as the Sabbat tried to defend
    Tom. Fraser saw the break and protruding bone in Adolph's long, spiked
    tail and brought the heel of his boot down on it as hard as possible.
    
    Adolph let out a howl of pure agony that shook Hell to its foundations.
    He dropped the Sabbat Elder. 
    
    Ray made to run in as well and was bodily slammed back by a right of
    passage spell. He hit the floor with a thud. There was enough vampire
    in him still that he couldn't enter unless Tom called. Shit! 
    
    "Elder!"
    
    He struggled to his feet as Jay came pounding up. He was in his academy
    uniform, Ray noted vaguely. Jay got one glimpse of what was happening
    and made the same mistake Ray had. 
    
    "No! Ow! Shit, Jay, Tom put a passage spell on it! We can't get in!"
    
    "I can," squeaked Cecil.
    
    Ray gave him a shove. "Tell Grissom to invite us in! All of us! I'm getting
    an ambulance here!" He dug out his phone and started dialing. 
    
    Just then Aria returned with half a dozen wooden stakes. The prince and
    the vampire shied away from the weapons, but Fraser seized upon them
    eagerly. He'd fought Adolph three times before. He was no more afraid
    now than he had been then. Adolph had not won any of those three battles.
    
    Ray clamped a hand over his mouth as Adolph turned on his lover. He did
    not want to see this. Cecil, meanwhile, had circled around to the rear
    door close to where Tom lay unmoving in a heap of bloodstained clothes.
    The Enthos inched forward to his former lover, now friend. 
    
    "Tom? Tom? Can you hear me?"
    
    Nervously, he felt for a pulse. It was weak. Thready.
    
    "Tom, invite the vampires in. Ray and Jay and the others. You have to
    let them in. Please, Tom, if you ever loved me, let them in." 
    
    But Tom didn't hear him.
    
    ***
    
    Turnbull never even slowed down as he ran through the old prison. He
    left Caine behind and he had no idea where Diefenbaker was, he just shoved
    his way through the press of demons, past Ray and the McGets, straight
    into the cell where Constable Fraser fought the Wyrmspawn. Adolph was
    desperate, clearly on his last leg. Tom lay on the floor, Cecil beside
    him trying to tend him. Another figure was at Adolph's feet. The Seeker
    did a double take. If he didn't recognize the jacket, he never would
    have known it was Calhoun. He looked as if an autopsy had been started
    on him. 
    
    Turnbull seized a stake from the floor and stood beside his fellow Slayer.
    Fraser was panting and except for a few scratches, seemed unhurt. 
    
    "Ready?" asked Fraser.
    
    "Very."
    
    Diefenbaker suddenly darted in from behind Cecil, teeth bared in a weird,
    half-warped state between man and beast. He cast Fraser a knowing look.
    
    He was ready as well.
    
    ***
    
    The Primals parted before them like they were Moses and the demons were
    the Red Sea. Silence followed them as they walked into the prison. Their
    clan was twenty-five strong now, not all of them Sabbat as Elder Calhoun
    had welcomed several members whose clans had been destroyed or disbanded
    during Armageddon. 
    
    "Von!"
    
    He spotted Mina as she stood with her tiny clan and the kid he'd seen
    earlier. Why the hell weren't they in there with Calhoun? 
    
    As if reading his thoughts, the red-haired man spoke without looking
    away from the action going on inside. "There's a rite of passage spell
    on the room and Grissom's too out of it to ask us in." 
    
    "Fuck!" hissed Von, hating that damned consort all over again.
    
    "Exactly," growled the ghoulite.
    
    Von realized who this was. Their prince. Kowalski. He was furious. 
    
    Good.
    
    Another commotion behind them. Prince Kowalski glanced back as another
    vampire, so well dressed he had to be a Giovanni, and a uniformed Knight
    of the City joined them. 
    
    "What the hell's going on?" demanded the Knight.
    
    Kowalski answered with one word.  "Adolph."
    
    ***
    
    Cold. Strangely cold and numb. He couldn't feel his feet or legs. An
    odd feeling. He could hear shouts that made no sense or impression, sense
    wild movement above him. Someone was close. Very close. James? 
    
    /James...?/
    
    No answer from his lover. Fear rose in him. Where was James? He couldn't
    sense anything through the psychic link they shared. 
    
    /James! Please!/
    
    "Tom? Tom? Please, you have to let them in!"
    
    Who?
    
    "The Sabbat are here. Mina's here. Let them help!"
    
    Why were the Sabbat here and why would they want to help anyone?
    
    "James is hurt! Adolph tore him to shreds!"
    
    Adolph. Hurt. James.
    
    Tore him to shreds. Tried to kill his own father. He remembered now.
    
    James was hurt?
    
    He fumbled for the cool metal gun. It was sticky. He didn't realize it
    was his own blood as he closed his hand around the stock. 
    
    James was hurt. He had fallen defending Tom, defending his unborn daughter.
    
    Son or no son, Adolph was going to pay.
    
    ***
    
    Cecil watched in shock as Tom began to stir, bloody hands fumbling in
    front of him. "Tom...?" Eyes widening as he saw the gun on the floor,
    he nodded. "All right..." He helped Tom close his fingers around the
    gun and backed away, shielding his eyes. 
    
    He hoped and prayed the others did the same.
    
    ***
    
    Touching. Someone helping him. Cecil? Cecil here? Was it that bad? Or
    had everything been a dream, and he was bleeding to death on the floor
    of some bathroom in Baltimore? /No...don't be stupid.../ 
    
    He shoved himself to a sitting position, raising the gun to eye level.
    He could see Fraser battling Adolph, the Seeker and Dief by his side.
    He grit his teeth against the pain, against his unborn daughter's shrieking
    agony. 
    
    Aimed the gun.
    
    "Adolph..."
    
    Adolph whirled around, his broken, numbing tail smashing Fraser across
    the face and chest. The Wyrm Childe felt a bizarre satisfaction at the
    sound of the Slayer's scream and the Prince's cry of alarm. 
    
    "Daddy..." He smiled at the gun, knowing his father would never, ever
    hurt him. 
    
    ***
    
    Ray bit back tears as Fraser fell, and he was unable to help. Why wouldn't
    Tom invite them in. "Tom, please! Let us-" He saw the gun and froze.
    Oh God. 
    
    Oh my God.
    
    "Everyone cover your eyes!" he shouted, ducking down and following his
    own order. 
    
    He didn't bother checking to see if anyone else had.
    
    ***
    
    Tom grit his teeth, breathing heavily.
    
    He pulled the trigger.
    
    The arc of light hit Adolph hard, throwing him across the room and lighting
    on anyone who hadn't bothered to close their eyes. 
    
    Like him.
    
    He was thrown back into the wall, screaming. When the light died down,
    the place was dark. 
    
    And Adolph...
    
    His son...
    
    Was dead...
    
    "James..." he managed before everything went completely black.
    
    ***
    
    Ray looked up. Things were a bit rearranged in the room and Adolph was
    a big black smear on the far wall. 
    
    Good.
    
    "Fraser! Fraser!"
    
    At Ray's repeated shouts the Mountie slowly sat up. He was bloodied and
    hurt, but he could move. Turnbull unwound himself from where he'd tackled
    Diefenbaker to get him out of the mirror smasher's range. 
    
    "Ray, help us," called Fraser, staggering to his feet. Calhoun was closest
    and he knelt beside the cold and mangled form. "Jamey..." 
    
    "Get them out of there!" ordered Mina, holding Jay back from rushing
    the door again. Vecchio hurried into the room and went straight to Tom's
    side. 
    
    Turnbull pushed Fraser towards Tom and Cecil as he crouched down to lift
    the Sabbat. He was stunned to see Calhoun's lips move. He bent close,
    grimacing at the bloody, mangled mess that was Jamey. 
    
    "B-ba...by..."
    
    "Baby? Sophia?"
    
    Calhoun tried to lift his hand. It was crushed, bones protruding through
    the pale skin. 
    
    "T-To...om...preg...na..."
    
    Turnbull gasped. "Constable! Cecil! Get him out of this room now! He's
    pregnant!" 
    
    All hell broke loose.
    
    Ray was on his cell phone, calling again for EMS as Vecchio and Cecil
    lifted Tom between them and rushed him out of the room to Mina's waiting
    care. Turnbull, with Fraser's help, maneuvered the considerable weight
    of James Calhoun into his arms and carried him to Von. 
    
    Tom had been sliced.
    
    Calhoun had been shredded.
    
    "He needs to feed now!" Von declared. He looked to where Ray was tending
    Fraser. "Prince Kowalski!" 
    
    Ray looked up.
    
    "You're his prince. He needs /you/."
    
    Ray bit his lip as he hurried over. "I was a fire vampire. Everything
    that fed off me was poisoned. I don't know - " 
    
    Von looked at him sternly. "You are his prince and he loves and trusts
    you. You will not hurt him, Prince Kowalski." 
    
    He glanced back at Fraser and the Mountie, holding his Henley to his
    bleeding chest with one hand and Dief with the other, nodded to him.
    Ray returned his attention to the hovering Sabbat. 
    
    "'Kay."
    
    "I don't think he'll be able to bite you," stated Von. Half of Calhoun's
    teeth were broken. 
    
    Ray held out his wrist to the Sabbat second. Without hesitation Von cut
    open Ray's wrist with his own fangs, tasting the blood briefly to be
    sure his elder would not be poisoned. So strange to taste a ghoulite
    with a soul. 
    
    It was sweet. Intoxicating.
    
    "C'mon, Cal, you bastard," begged the detective. He held his wrist pressed
    against the Elder's lips, forcing the blood on him. "Come on! Ya finally
    stomped Adolph. Come on, drink! That's an order!" 
    
    A faint movement. He felt Calhoun swallow a tiny mouthful. "That's it.
    Keep it up. Swallow. Come on, Jamey, please. Ya got another kid on the
    way. Drink." 
    
    ***
    
    Cecil sat with Tom in the ambulance, watching Mina work on him with quick,
    conservative movements. She listened now to Tom's abdomen. The baby's
    heartbeat was so fast. 
    
    "I had to remove one of his sacs three years ago," Mina told him, intent
    on the examination. She was working as fast as she could. "Having Sophia
    almost killed him. Nikko was...a dangerous gamble. Whatever Adolph did,
    it sliced right through the one he has left." 
    
    "The baby's dying." Cecil closed his eyes. "Can you do anything?" 
    
    "The salinic fluid is flooding his body. It's poisoning his system. If
    we don't get the sac out and remove the child..." She didn't finish the
    sentence. She didn't have to. Looking straight into his watery blue eyes,
    she said, "Someone could surrogate the child until it's ready." 
    
    "I'll do it," Cecil whispered without hesitation, stroking Tom's hair
    back. "He'll be alright, then?" 
    
    She stared at him then shook her head. "I don't know."
    
    ***
    
    Ray sat in the waiting room of the Vampire ICU, watching Aja. The boy
    king was shaking hard, visibly scared out of his wits. And who could
    blame him? His father was in surgery, his father's lover was shattered
    in the next room. His brother was a pancake. 
    
    Who could blame him?
    
    Not Ray.
    
    He tossed aside the magazine he'd been pretending to read and walked
    over to sit beside the ancient vampire he loved so dearly. He wrapped
    his arm around the scrawny shoulders and pulled Aja in close, giving
    as much comfort as he took. He glanced at the nurses, tempted to pester
    them but deciding against it. Both were vampires and both looked pretty
    formidable. They wouldn't be impressed that he was a prince or that Aja
    predated the Flood. They'd just tell him to be quiet. 
    
    ***
    
    Tom's eyes slowly opened, taking in the sight above him. An operating
    theatre. Oh God... 
    
    No.
    
    The baby...
    
    He hurt. Even with whatever painkillers they were pumping into him, he
    /hurt/ His eyes shifted to the right, and he could see a blurred Cecil
    on the gurney next to him. Was he hurt too? Had he looked at the mirror
    smasher? 
    
    Everything started going hazy again.
    
    Voices were chanting around him. He felt the unmistakable tug of a drawing
    spell. He saw something being lifted out of him, as if a weight was being
    lifted from his belly, and then it felt like everything exploded. 
    
    Mina turned her back on the surgeon working on Cecil, and went back to
    Tom. His heart rate had jumped way too high. And he was awake. 
    
    She worked to repair the damage, dimly aware of screams coming from him.
    
    "It's all right...you're okay..."
    
    When she finished, he was out.
    
    It wasn't until later they realized just how out of it he was.
    
    ***
    
    Fraser accepted Ray Vecchio's help up the steps to the guest bedroom.
    His chest ached terribly but the emergency room doctors had cleared him
    after they treated the cut and bandaged his chest. All he wanted now
    was sleep and Ray Kowalski, but the detective was waiting with his retainer
    at the hospital. He would be back later with Aja. 
    
    "Here ya go, Benny," said Ray. He was still in uniform and he tossed
    his hat onto the other bed as he eased the Mountie down. "Need help with
    the boots?" 
    
    "Please."
    
    Stella entered with a steaming mug of herbal tea for Fraser that he drank
    down gratefully. Vecchio muttered under his breath at the boots as Dief
    came bounding into the room and claimed the other bed. 
    
    "How are Tom and Jamey?" Stella asked.
    
    Fraser sighed, shaking his head. "Ray will call as soon as he gets news."
    
    She took the mug from him. "You need to sleep, Constable."
    
    "The doctor gave me pain medication. Sleep is...very appealing right
    now," he admitted, trying not to yawn. 
    
    Vecchio chuckled at his drowsy voice. "Lie down, Benny. I'll tell Stan
    to swing by your place and get you some clothes." 
    
    "Inspector That-"
    
    "Welsh will call. Don't worry. And Turnbull's bringing the car back.
    Don't sweat it any, Benny. Go to sleep." 
    
    He obeyed without question.
    
    ***
    
    Nothing. He felt absolutely nothing. Even being frozen had not been this
    empty, this devoid of sensation. He was aware that he was hurt - dangerously
    so. Could he possibly not recover from this? No. Tom needed him. Prince
    Kowalski had ordered him to go on. He had another child  - another child!
    - with Tom on the way. 
    
    People around him. He wished his prince were here to tell him how Tom
    was. How the baby was. How he was...he hurt. God, how he hurt. 
    
    He couldn't remember a time he hurt so much.
    
    ***
    
    Kowalski stood over Calhoun's prone form, staring down at him with unspoken
    concern. He still looked bad, but better than he had before. The broken
    bones, at least were healed up, and his teeth and fangs had regenerated
    as the undead were wont to do when injuries were treated with vampire
    blood. Mina had basically had to put him back together and just being
    a vampire did the rest. 
    
    "He'll be ok, right?" he asked Mina suddenly. "He'll recover."
    
    She was silent for a moment. "He's already recovering. That's not the
    problem. The problem is this..." She flipped on the EKG. 
    
    It started beeping.
    
    Ray looked at her, shocked. "He has a pulse. Why? How?"
    
    "We believe he may have had his eyes open when the mirror gun was fired."
    
    "He's alive?"
    
    "A ghoulite, if you'll excuse the term."
    
    Ray blinked, then grinned, then shook his head. "Tom'll get a kick out
    of that." He didn't like her silence. "What?" 
    
    "Tom's in a coma. His body..." She sighed. "There was so much damage,
    and so much poison...if he were still a Slayer, he would've been fine.
    He bounced back from worse when he was one. But-" 
    
    "But now he's not."
    
    "No. And turning into a hybrid is definitely going to interfere with
    the healing process that Elder Calhoun would normally undergo as a vampire.
    He's still in serious condition, Ray. We're a long way from being out
    of the woods." 
    
    ***
    
    Cecil sat beside Tom's hospital bed, watching him quietly. He was unconscious,
    as he had been for the past two hours. Unconscious and on life support.
    
    He brushed hair out of Tom's eyes, and wondered if he was dreaming. 
    
    ***
    
    He opened his eyes to find himself in his old apartment, lying on the
    couch. He heard the refrigerator close, and sat up. Faith grinned at
    him, and sat down. "Hey, baby." 
    
    Cautiously he replied, "Faith."
    
    "The one and only."
    
    "Am I dead?"
    
    "Naw. Well. Maybe a little bit almost." She nodded to the mirror on the
    opposite wall. The reflection that met his eyes was of a hospital room,
    his own it would seem. "You look wicked bad..." 
    
    "You're dead..." he said unnecessarily.
    
    "For now." She looked at the mirror. "That demon really does love you,
    you know?" 
    
    Tom glanced at the image of Cecil. "Yeah. I know."
    
    "He love you better than the vamp?" she wondered.
    
    Tom shrugged. "He loves me differently than James. I think with James
    there's more need on both sides than with Cecil." 
    
    "He's carrying your kid now, you know."
    
    "What?" Tom twisted to face her.
    
    "They took the baby out of you. She was dying, so were you. He volunteered
    to be surrogate dad." 
    
    "He's carrying her?" Tom looked back at the mirror, awed. That Cecil
    would do that for him... 
    
    He could have loved Cecil. At one time, he could have.
    
    "Your boyfriend is in bad shape, Tommy." She cut into his thoughts, her
    voice gentle. 
    
    "What do you mean? He'll be all right. He's a vampire. They can bounce
    back from just about anything." 
    
    "You sure about all that?" she replied. "We've got to talk."
    
    ***
    
    He called the Vecchio house and told Ma what Mina had said: the only
    one off the critical list was the baby. 
    
    "Baby?"
    
    "Oh, yeah, Ma, Tom's pregnant. No, we didn't know either. I don't think
    Grissom knew, actually." 
    
    "How can he not know he's going to have a baby?"
    
    "C'mon, Ma, it's Tom. Besides, male breeders don't blow up like they've
    got a basket ball under their shirts like Frannie." He took a deep breath.
    "How's Fraser?" 
    
    "Asleep. Where is Adam?"
    
    "He's asleep, too. I'm going to go check on Tom then we'll be by. 'Kay?
    Love ya." 
    
    He looked up as Mina Turnbull appeared in the hall. He knew by the look
    on her face he would not be going home anytime soon. 
    
    "Your retainer is waking up," was all she said. "Go see Tom first so
    you can give him an update, okay?" 
    
    ***
    
    Tom looked at Faith again, "Talk?"
    
    "Several things are going to happen. One, your boyfriend ain't okay.
    He's alive. Like that Prince you insist on helping out." 
    
    "James..." He closed his eyes, unsure how to react that that. She didn't
    give him time. 
    
    "Tell him the rest, /Faith/," a voice said from the kitchen. Xander.
    He could hear Xander, but he couldn't see him. 
    
    Faith smiled, ironically. "He gets in because he was a Slayer for three
    weeks, but they won't let him have his body 'cause he was a moron!" She
    shouted that last bit towards the kitchen. 
    
    "Bite me and die," the voice called back.
    
    "Too late."
    
    He stared at her, unsure of what to say. "Faith? The rest...."
    
    "Oh. Right." She cleared her throat. "Your child. The girl..."
    
    "Which one?" He grinned. "Sophia?"
    
    "She'll have her soul..."
    
    ***
    
    Ray sat next to Cecil, looking at Tom. He looked worse than he had in
    Hell. There were bruises on his arms, cuts all over him. A tube down
    his throat. His eyes were even bruised. "Jesus," he swore. 
    
    Cecil looked up. "He shouldn't have given the girl his powers."
    
    "He did what he had to do," snapped Ray defensively. He didn't appreciate
    anyone but himself second-guessing his friends. 
    
    Cecil shook his head. "It's killing him now."
    
    "You don't know that."
    
    Cecil glanced at him sharply. "Dr. Turnbull said that poisons are flooding
    his body, turning it against him. Even if he lives, another baby would
    kill him." 
    
    Ray smirked, "Tom would find a way to have one."
    
    "I know..." Cecil closed his eyes. "He should take them back. His powers,
    even if just for a little bit..." 
    
    "You know he won't."
    
    "Then he'll die."
    
    Ray shook his head. "Maybe not. A little optimism here, Noor?  He's pulled
    his sorry butt through a lot of crap before today and your attitude sucks."
    He rose. "Get that chip off your shoulder, pal, and don't forget he's
    taken." 
    
    ***
    
    The strangest sensation. He was warm. He couldn't ever remember being
    so warm.  Not since the nineteenth century, anyway, just a few years
    after the American Civil War. He'd been warm then. He was warm now. How
    odd. 
    
    Then he took a deep breath and suddenly discovered he /needed/ to breathe.
    There was a mask on his face and it actually helped. 
    
    Calhoun gasped, panicking. Instantly he was dizzy and nauseous and...what
    happened to his fangs? 
    
    Where the hell were his goddamned fangs?
    
    And WHAT was that damned beeping noise?
    
    He looked around, then at his hands. They were stiff and sore and swollen,
    but they had color. 
    
    What. The. Hell. Was. Going. On?
    
    Footsteps. Whoever it was, was going to tell him what was going on or
    there would be hell to pay. 
    
    He sighed with relief when Prince Kowalski entered the ward.
    
    The hybrid smiled when he saw his retainer was awake. After a fashion,
    anyway. 
    
    "Hey," greeted Kowalski quietly.
    
    "What the fuck, Ray?"
    
    He laughed. It was so unexpected a question and so Calhoun.
    
    "Okay, Cal, cool yer jets a bit."
    
    "Where's Tom? How badly was he hurt? How's the baby? What the hell is
    wrong with-" 
    
    "Shut up, Dead Man, or my next move you will not enjoy."
    
    Ray glared. Calhoun glared right back. Ray won.
    
    "Okay. Here's the deal. Tom's in bad shape. He's been poisoned by his
    own system. Those sack things he's still got." 
    
    "Salinic sacs. Takes the place of a womb in males."
    
    "Them things. They're poisoning him. He's fightin', though. He's inna
    coma." 
    
    "What?!?"
    
    "You heard me, Cal." Ray plopped into the nearest chair. "Coma. The baby
    is okay. She's in Cecil." 
    
    "She?" breathed Calhoun. Another daughter. Another beautiful, wondrous-
    
    "Cecil?"
    
    Ray grinned. "He volunteered to carry her to the end of her term." 
    
    "Cecil." Calhoun couldn't grasp that. He lay back in the pillows, strangely
    exhausted. 
    
    "Cecil."
    
    "Uh...ugh."
    
    "He's cool with it."
    
    Next question. "What...happened to me?"
    
    "Remember the fight?"
    
    Calhoun blinked. Fight? "Adolph?" he wondered.
    
    "Yeah. You two pummeled each other. Tom shot him with a mirror smasher.
    Turned him into a black skid mark on the wall." Kowalski cleared his
    throat. "Uh, nearest Mina can figure, you had yer eyes open when Tom
    fires and the mirror smasher...well...now yer like me, Cal. Yer a ghoulite."
    
    ***
    
    He awoke, missing Ray's cool presence beside him in the bed. He could
    have used that coolness right now. It was terribly hot. Fraser sat up,
    throwing back the covers.  Immediately he regretted it. It was freezing
    in this room. Clawing for the blankets again, he drew a shuddering breath,
    realizing now he had a fever. His chest and jaw ached terribly from the
    blow Adolph had dealt him. That ugly, bloody tail sliced through his
    uniform and skin like... 
    
    Bloody.
    
    Fraser was still, trying to think.
    
    Adolph's blood. In his system. Was that why he had a fever?
    
    He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and made to stand. The room
    tilted beneath Fraser's feet and suddenly he was on the floor, his fingers
    tracing the lines in the braided carpet. So cold. He was so cold. 
    
    /Ray.../
    
    ***
    
    Ray Vecchio and Stella were soundly asleep in a too-small bed of which
    they were both growing very fond. Wrapped in each other's arms, they
    had no idea they were about to be attacked until Dief jumped on the bed
    with all four feet. 
    
    Instantly pandemonium ensued. Both sleepers let out yelps of shock and
    Vecchio struggled to find their attacker and his gun in the darkness.
    
    Dief growled anxiously and suddenly husband and wife let out long sighs.
    
    "You mangy - "
    
    Dief whined and growled some more then jerked his head towards the door.
    He came back to nip at Vecchio before heading for the door again. 
    
    "Wha-?  Benny!"
    
    It had to be Benny. Kowalski wasn't here.
    
    ***
    
    "I want to go back..." Tom suddenly said, his heart feeling fluttery.
    He didn't like this apartment. Never had. He wanted to go home. 
    
    Faith watched him sympathetically. "You can't."
    
    He stared at her. "I can't? Ever?"
    
    "Not yet," she amended. Brushing her hair back, she leaned forward. "Soon."
    
    "When?" He felt impatient. He wanted to get back to James. To his children.
    He stared back into the mirror. James was being wheeled into the room.
    He looked...bruised. So different. God, how close to dying had James
    been before he had plucked up the courage to shoot Adolph? 
    
    But alive. He looked alive.
    
    He wanted to be there. He wanted to feel that.
    
    God, he hoped it lasted.
    
    She smiled at him, squeezing his arm. "Soon, baby."
    
    She leaned over suddenly, and kissed him, pulling him closer. He froze
    momentarily then leaned into the kiss. There was no romance involved,
    nothing sensual or sexual in any way. 
    
    It was...like a lifeline. As if she were feeding him something he needed.
    Something vital that he'd been missing. That he needed desperately. He
    felt her hands move to his shoulders, shoving him backwards on the couch.
    
    He pulled away. "Wait. Faith..."
    
    She smiled down at him, "It's ok. It's not real..." She nodded to the
    mirror. "That's real. This...this is just Slayer." 
    
    "Slayer?" He closed his eyes as she bit at his neck, gently then kissed
    him again. "What d'you mean?" 
    
    She sighed, hands on either side of his face. "You're going to die out
    there. Do you want to live?" 
    
    His answer was low. Barely a whisper. "Yes..."
    
    "All right. But you don't dare. This world needs you and what you have
    to offer it. Your kids need you. HE needs you. They need you as a Slayer,
    too, not just a Higher." 
    
    Tom looked again at the image of James. He rested his had on Tom's hand,
    too weak to lift his hand and touch him. 
    
    Then he saw it.
    
    James was crying.
    
    "Slayer..."
    
    "I don't need it anymore, not where I'm going." She nodded, kissing him
    again. This time he didn't fight. It wasn't a betrayal. It was survival.
    "Slayer..." 
    
    ***
    
    Calhoun shivered suddenly. "I need to see him," he whispered, glancing
    sharply at Ray. 
    
    "I dunno, Cal...the Harpies might..."
    
    "Screw the harpies...I need to see him..."
    
    ***
    
    She stood up, going to the door. "Wish me luck."
    
    "What?" He sat up, staring at her. He still didn't understand what had
    happened. 
    
    "I've got a prophecy to fulfill." She tried the door. Locked. "What-"
    
    "You have to ask first," the voice in the kitchen sneered. She gave a
    dirty look in that direction. "The girl. If she doesn't want you, you
    can't go." 
    
    "She won't know to answer if no one's there to ask," Tom glared at the
    kitchen. 
    
    "Therein lies the puzzle."
    
    Tom tore his eyes away from the mirror for a moment. "Who?"
    
    "Sophia," said Xander with a sneering tone.
    
    ***
    
    Calhoun held the oxygen mask to his face, staring at his seemingly sleeping
    lover with horror in his eyes. Every conceivable life support machine
    was hooked up to the former Slayer, keeping him alive. He looked so fragile,
    so pale against the sheets. 
    
    He felt something slide down his face and realized with some shock that
    he was crying. He felt arms go around his shoulders. Ray was hugging
    him. He leaned into his prince's hold and let his emotion wash over him.
    
    ***
    
    Cecil paused in the doorway, watching. He didn't dislike Calhoun. He
    was terrified of him but he knew the Sabbat was devoted to Tom. When
    he saw the tears he was shocked. Vampires couldn't cry. Nor did they
    need oxygen. Or IV's. 
    
    He was drawn forward despite himself and he stared down at the man Prince
    Kowalski held. He was... 
    
    "James!"
    
    That familiar glare at the use of his given name. Cecil grinned.
    
    "Thank you," whispered Calhoun, fading fast.
    
    Ray settled him down in the wheel chair again, quietly saying, "Let's
    get you back before the harpies find out." 
    
    ***
    
    There was a sensation of movement above him. Cool air. He tried to take
    some in, but ended up coughing half of it back out. It hurt. Badly. 
    
    "Get that mask in place, he's in distress."
    
    Who was?
    
    Suddenly a blast of air into his starving lungs. He breathed deeply,
    coughed, then breathed deeply again. 
    
    "You're going to be alright, Constable."
    
    Was he? Was something wrong?
    
    "Benny, I'm gonna ride with you, okay? Stan's already at the hospital.
    Don't worry. You're going to be okay." 
    
    He didn't worry. Ray had said not to. And his Ray was waiting for him.
    Good...good...good... 
    
    "He's losing consciousness. Come on, Constable, stay with us."
    
    /Ray...?/
    
    ***
    
    "Fraser?" Ray blinked, staring at the wall across from where Calhoun
    once again lay in bed. Fraser. Something's wrong with Fraser. He blinked.
    
    Calhoun could sense his Prince's distress. Kowalski was not very good
    at masking his emotions. "Go," he urged. "I'll be fine." 
    
    Ray didn't even pause to nod.
    
    ***
    
    Vecchio ran beside the gurney holding his fallen friend. Surprise was
    etched on every line of his face when he saw Kowalski waiting for them
    in the emergency room. There was fear in that angular face, those brilliant
    blue eyes that searched Vecchio's expression for some kind of reassurance
    that the man to whom he'd entrusted his soul would not die today. 
    
    Surprise quickly left. He must have known. Maybe even felt it. He knew
    Benny could feel some of the shit Stan went through. Maybe it went both
    ways. 
    
    Guess that's what soul mates were all about.
    
    ***
    
    He woke up cold. Too cold, his body shivering in the chill of the hospital.
    He stared at the ceiling, his Ray was hovering above him, worried. 
    
    "Frase?" The voice was tired. Clearly he was greatly stressed. Fraser
    wanted to take him, hold him, be held in those arms... 
    
    The sound was wobbling. Echoing. Too strange. "Ray..." His own voice
    was hoarse. Gravelly.  His vision distorted, leaving everything pleasantly
    fuzzy. 
    
    "Shh. You're ok." Ray's hand felt warm. A warmth he welcomed. He sighed
    into the touch and let his eyes close again. 
    
    ***
    
    Sophia sat in Ma Vecchio's kitchen, listening to the radio with Nikko.
    Joe D was, as always, too close to the mark with his music selections
    and they were surprised when a song came on that wasn't dedicated to
    Nikko Calhoun. 
    
    It went out to Sophia.
    
    "...That was Billy Joel's, 'It's All About Soul,' going out to my lady
    love's older sister Sophia Grania. Want a soul, baby doll? Clap your
    hands!" 
    
    And she did.
    
    ***
    
    Tom touched the mirror, watching it ripple with the pressure. It was
    almost liquid to the touch at first then grew solid. "I don't under-"
    He turned back to Faith. 
    
    She was gone.
    
    "Faith?"
    
    "Gone away. Just you and me now, Tommy boy."
    
    Tom ducked, narrowly missing being hit with a pot of cooked pasta. 
    
    ***
    
    Cecil looked up from his magazine as Tom began to toss and turn in his
    bed. His breathing in the tube was coming in short pants. He sounded
    like he was in considerable pain. 
    
    "Tom?" He reached for the call button. "Tom?"
    
    ***
    
    Ray sat by Fraser, trying to keep calm. The bastard Wyrm child's blood
    had poisoned Fraser in almost the same way it had hurt him, only Ray
    was a hybrid, he could take more abuse with this body than Fraser could.
    Adolph's blood seemed so much worse than his spit from when he'd bitten
    Ray's ear. He still had the scar from that incident. 
    
    Fraser was burning with fever, sweaty and flushed one moment, pale and
    chilled the next. Oh, god, if only he could have gotten into that room
    with them. He might have stopped Adolph. /God, what a mess. God, Fraser,
    don't leave me./ 
    
    //How is he, Yank?//
    
    "God, Canada, he's...he's poisoned. Adolph's blood." Ray looked up at
    the old Mountie standing on the other side of the bed. 
    
    //Why don't you sleep, son? I'll watch over him. I'll wake you if anything
    happens, alright?// 
    
    Biting back tears, Ray nodded. He pulled a chair close to the bed, rested
    his head on the edge of the mattress, and was asleep almost instantly,
    his hand clutching Fraser's. 
    
    ***
    
    Early the next day, Turnbull entered the hospital room, glancing briefly
    down at the comatose Moloch before looking up at the slowly healing James
    Calhoun. "Feel any better, Elder?" he asked quietly. 
    
    "I feel like shit," Calhoun replied hoarsely. "I've been a vampire so
    long I've got no idea what it's like to be alive. Even something as simple
    as getting hungry is totally different." The oxygen mask was still at
    his side, in case he needed it. He had come back to Tom's room early
    in the morning and had refused to leave despite the harpies' attempts
    to extricate him. "Are the children all right?" 
    
    Turnbull paused before answering, not wanting to contribute to Calhoun's
    list of aches and pains. "So far, yes. Concerned. Sophia asked to see
    you. She says it's important." 
    
    He sighed, rubbing his head. That was another thing: headaches. "She
    probably can't find Barbie's dog again. Will they let her in?" 
    
    "I'll ask Mina. I'm sure she can arrange it." He looked back at Tom.
    "How is he?" 
    
    "Worse. Noor said he had some sort of seizure last night. The poison's
    spreading too fast for his system to compensate. They aren't sure..."
    Calhoun couldn't continue. 
    
    Turnbull nodded, sitting down beside the wheelchair. "He'll pull through.
    He has before." 
    
    "He was a Slayer before."
    
    "Not always. In Fortitude Pass he was able to make it by drinking Ray's
    blood." 
    
    At the mention of his prince, Calhoun looked up sharply. "Fraser. Is
    he all right?" 
    
    ***
    
    Fraser was getting worse. He was delirious, didn't seem to know who Ray
    was half the time. The other half he was sick all over. Ray held Fraser's
    hand tightly in his own, trying to keep the Mountie calm, trying to stem
    his own panic. 
    
    "Stay with me, Ben," he begged, breathlessly. "Don't go..."
    
    "Ray..."
    
    "I'm right here..."
    
    "Ray!" His head tossed back and forth on the pillow, hair dampened by
    fevered sweat on his brow. Adolph's blood was ravaging him, tearing him
    apart. 
    
    Squeezing his eyes shut, Ray buried his face in his hands. For the first
    time in a long time he was lost. 
    
    ***
    
    Food splattered, Tom glared towards the kitchen.
    
    "You really have no concept of why you're here, do you?" Xander demanded.
    "You think you're gonna come here when you bite it? Fat chance. You're
    a Higher now. They don't let your kind here." 
    
    "But they let you," Tom sneered back.
    
    "Think about it, Tommy boy. You're a Higher. You should've been able
    to fight your kid, taken him down without anyone so much as getting a
    scratch. Why didn't you?" 
    
    "What are you talking about?"
    
    "You could have changed."
    
    "Changed? I'm a breeder, not a warrior."
    
    Xander smirked. "Aren't you?"
    
    "What are you talking about?" Tom demanded.
    
    "You're a /Higher/. You're everything. You could've changed. That in
    there, Fraser, your cat toy, Adolph, it's ALL your fault. You could've
    stopped it. Gone cat all the way, instead of the piddly little fangs
    and claws you seem intent on telling them is your Moloch self." He could
    almost feel Xander in his face. "You did it once. I saw you." 
    
    Tom blinked. He barely remembered.
    
    "Anya. Remember? When you and the other cat freaks tore her apart. What
    would your lover say to that, if he knew what you could do?" 
    
    "I..."
    
    "Why don't we just see?" Tom felt coldness on his back and a lurch as
    he was shoved, screaming towards the mirror. 
    
    It shattered on impact.
    
    He fell forever and a day, through darkness and what /felt/ like screaming
    horrors. 
    
    He could feel hands all over him, gripping his body as he fell, tearing
    at his clothes and skin, trying to force him to change. 
    
    He could have sworn he heard Fraser screaming.
    
    ***
    
    Calhoun looked up as Tom's eyes suddenly snapped open. "Tom?" he whispered
    hopefully. 
    
    And then he saw the agony in his lover's eyes. He leaned closer as a
    spasm wracked Tom's frame, forcing his back to arch painfully. 
    
    "James..." Tom gasped, suddenly, his head tossing to the side. "Seeker,
    get him out..." He could feel something controlling him, something he
    hadn't felt in a long time, and before that ever. It hurt. It was agony
    with agonies of it's own. 
    
    It was his.
    
    Unable to move from shock, Turnbull stared as the bones beneath Tom's
    skin seemed to shift. The sound of it... 
    
    Tom's back arched again, his fingers digging claw-like into the mattress
    of the bed. 
    
    No.
    
    Not claw-like.
    
    Claws.
    
    "Tom?" Calhoun whispered, leaning closer. "Tom, what's happening?" 
    
    "Getoutgetoutgetout!" Tom panted, his eyes squeezed shut in pain. He
    couldn't take any more of this, couldn't.... 
    
    He screamed as the bones in his legs followed those in his arms.
    
    ***
    
    Exhausted, sore, and too focused on the fevered man before him to take
    notice of the world, Ray Kowalski slipped into a kind of waking dream
    as he sat against the bed next to Fraser. One of the Mountie's hot, dry
    hands was clasped in Ray's smaller, cold hand. Occasionally he would
    reach up with his free hand to wipe the sweat from Fraser's brow or to
    stroke the thick, dark hair. Beyond that, beyond his lover, he knew nothing.
    
    Ray Vecchio found him that way, staring mutely at the flushed figure.
    He knew the two men were stupid in love, but never had it been so clearly
    as this moment. Ray's whole heart was written on his face. He was completely
    open. Completely defenseless. He looked so lost. 
    
    The Italian had seen the look before. Benny had looked that way when
    he'd run all the way from the old consulate to Ray's first apartment.
    He remembered his venom, his disgust at the notion of his friend and
    his rival being lovers. But most of all he remembered the look upon the
    Mountie's face as Ray lay shivering on the floor of his apartment, blood
    streaming from his nose as a flash hit him. So tender a look, so loving
    and protective and at a loss how to help. 
    
    "Hey," he said gently. Stan jumped, and Vecchio berated himself silently
    for startling him. "How is he?" 
    
    "Dey...don' know," slurred Kowalski, his accent thickened by his fatigue.
    "He's not responin' ta anything dey give 'em, he..." 
    
    Unable to continue, he just shook his head. Ray moved into the room and
    stood beside him. "C'mon, Stanley, I'll sit with him. You need to sleep."
    
    "N-no, I can'...He might wake up...he might..."
    
    "Come on," he urged. Kowalski was asleep on his feet and close to collapse.
    
    Vecchio had broken the younger man's focus, leaving his mind open and
    confused. 
    
    And then the dead found him.
    
    A little old lady came up behind him, muttering. "I died in that bed.
    Whole lot of good being in this place did /me/. Ungrateful children just
    pulled the plug like I was nothing more than a blender." She glared at
    Ray, who stared back at her with wide eyes. 
    
    She grinned, and her jaw fell off.
    
    Vecchio was surprised when Kowalski lurched against him, trembling as
    he buried his face in the Italian's shoulder. He gripped Vecchio's coat
    with hands that shook. 
    
    "N-No!"
    
    "Stan, what gives?" he wondered, automatically holding him close. 
    
    Ray glanced up. The hall was impossibly crowded with people of all ages,
    all of them pushing forward towards him, all of them talking, all of
    them dead. Years and years of death pressing close. They just wanted
    to be heard by the only person they could speak to... 
    
    Vecchio saw the wild, frightened gleam in the younger man's blue eyes.
    He'd seen the look before and he instinctively held him closer. God,
    did this kid ever eat? He was skin and bones. Ma would kill him if she
    found out. 
    
    Ray clamped his hands over his ears, whispering a hoarse mantra. "Go
    away. Go away. Leave me alone. Go away..." 
    
    He hustled Stan out the door to the stairs, unwilling to wait for the
    elevator. The green-haired detective let himself be lead away, still
    whispering. 
    
    Pausing on a landing, Vecchio released his hold and bent over, trying
    to look Ray in the face. "It's okay, Stan. They still here?" 
    
    Nervously, Kowalski looked around. "Not so many," he managed.
    
    "I'm going to take you home, then I'll come back and sit with Benny.
    You can come back after you get some sleep, okay?" 
    
    He rubbed his face, barely feeling the three day's worth of stubble on
    his chin. Not really in a position or condition to argue, he nodded.
    "Yeah. 'Kay." 
    
    He paused. Someone was coming down the stairs behind Vecchio. A woman.
    A woman to die for. 
    
    Vecchio saw Stan's red-rimmed eyes grow suddenly wide with alarm. He
    whirled to see what was behind him. 
    
    Lady Killer.
    
    She smiled. "You two boys owe me big time."
    
    They both went for their guns.
    
    The succubus lashed out.
    
    Both men dropped to the floor, unconscious.
    
    ***
    
    What was left when the change was finished was too much man to be animal
    and too much beast to be human. Calhoun stared at Tom, shocked into silence
    as Tom struggled to his hands and knees, his lips bared back in a snarl.
    
    "Tom..." He reached out and touched Tom's face gently. The creature Tom
    had become growled low in his throat and then turned into the touch.
    
    He wondered if Tom could even recognize him in this state. Calhoun kept
    perfectly still, waiting. 
    
    Tom inched forward, sniffing at him. By the door, Turnbull held his breath
    as Calhoun let the beast that his lover had become smell him. 
    
    /Recognize him/, screamed the Seeker's thoughts. Tom only knew James
    as a vampire. The differences now might cost James his new life. /It's
    Jamey. You love him. Don't hurt him, Tom, please!/ 
    
    Never looking away, the Sabbat endured the nudging and licking and even
    let Tom bite his hand, nibbling experimentally. Tom glided to the floor,
    prowling around James. The wheelchair seemed to confuse Tom, as did the
    IV in James' hand. Another low growl. Threatening. Turnbull tensed. 
    
    Slowly, oh, so slowly, Calhoun lifted his hand and again he carefully
    touched Tom's face, gradually moving his hand back until he could gently
    scratch and rub behind Tom's left ear. There was a pause then the Primal
    Higher began to purr. 
    
    "I think...I think it's all right," Calhoun started. "I think he..."
    
    Before he could finish, Tom's head snapped to the side, staring out the
    door. Panic laced through Turnbull's mind before he realized that the
    creature was looking beyond him. 
    
    Calhoun started as Tom suddenly leapt off the bed, scampering out the
    door like a bolt of lightning. "Where's he going?" 
    
    "I don't-" Turnbull watched, shaking his head.
    
    "Go after him?" Calhoun asked quietly. "Please..." He couldn't, God knows
    he wished he could. 
    
    ***
    
    Turnbull found him in the stairwell, midway through his change back to
    human form. It looked even more painful to go back then to turn into
    whatever it was he'd become. Tom tugged the hospital bathrobe around
    his gown and shivered, staring at the floor. 
    
    "Tom?" Turnbull was hesitant to approach the Primal Higher. "What is
    it?" 
    
    Tom sniffed the air deeply. "They've been taken...Ray and Ray...." 
    
    The Seeker's eyes flew wide and his voice was charged with alarm. "By
    whom?" 
    
    "Something...stinky."  He blinked up at Turnbull, knowing it was a lousy
    description but an honest one. 
    
    Turnbull continued to stare at him. He seemed...healed by the transition
    from man to beast and back. 
    
    ***
    
    Fraser opened his eyes, half expecting to see Ray sitting beside him.
    Or Ray. 
    
    He didn't expect to see Lady Killer.
    
    She smiled at him and everything went black.
    
    ***
    
    Calhoun looked up from staring at Tom's empty bed when Sophia bounded
    in, followed by Mina. "Daddy!" she squealed, launching herself at him.
    He hugged her tightly, careful of the IV. 
    
    He smiled then frowned. Something was different. Something...
    
    Good.
    
    "Sophia?" he wondered, stroking her glossy hair.  "What did you want
    to tell me, honey?" 
    
    "Joe gave me a song, Daddy!" she said, lisping slightly.  She paused.
    "What's wrong with your face? Where are your teeth?" 
    
    She was so beautiful. So innocent. Calhoun felt tears sting his eyes.
    "I'm not a vampire anymore." 
    
    "Oh." She pondered that, then looked up at him seriously. "I have a soul
    now. Her name is Faith. Is that good, Daddy?" 
    
    He stared into the pale blue eyes. He didn't know what to say or do and
    his eldest daughter started to get nervous that perhaps she had done
    something bad. Her lip trembled and suddenly tears filled her eyes. Hastily,
    he pulled her onto his lap, holding her as tightly as his aching body
    would allow. He kissed her hair. 
    
    "That's wonderful, darling."
    
    


End file.
